


Unleashed

by bluesthour (UnderTheRedHood)



Series: Isaac's Pack [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s03e04 Unleashed, Isaac's a sad puppy, Past Abuse, derek's kind of a dick, honestly this scene kills me, puppy!isaac, retelling a scene from canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4747796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderTheRedHood/pseuds/bluesthour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From 3.04: unleashed, where Isaac gets kicked out of the loft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unleashed

**Author's Note:**

> References to an abusive parent.

By the time Isaac got back to the loft, his face had mostly healed.  It hadn't been that bad of a bruise anyways-- Isaac had definitely had worse, and with the whole super-human healing powers, he was feeling pretty optimistic about his fight with the twins.  Still, it didn't stop the exhaustion from hitting him square on the second he reached the doorway.  Silently to himself, Isaac hoped he could just get inside and head to bed.   But then again, with Cora around, and how weird Derek had been acting, he wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

Whatever he _was_ expecting however: it was definitely not what he came home to.  The second he stepped his foot in the door he could sense something was wrong, whether it was in the looming thunderclouds outside or the stiffness of Derek’s shoulders.  He was uncomfortable, and not the “Stiles, stop touching me” kind either.  It was that kind of uncomfortable he got when you asked him about his family, or when one of his betas was hurt.

The third thing Isaac noticed was his lacrosse bag on the floor, full and zipped like somebody-- like _he_ was going somewhere.  A look of confusion flashed across his face as Derek squinted his eyes and tried to keep his voice steady.

“What’s going on?” Isaac asked, looking around for Cora or maybe Scott, someone to join his team against the tension that was Derek Hale.  Isaac hated this kind of feeling; it reminded him of being a kid again when he’d sit at the dinner table, staring at the table cloth and desperately trying to dodge his father’s inevitable anger.  But no, Derek wasn’t like his father: Derek would _never_ be like Isaac’s father.  Isaac trusted this, trusted _him_ , and he was the first person in a long time.

Derek sighed in that heavy, “this is your fault" way that instantly kept Isaac at a distance.  He turned around, stalking to his desk, then spread his hands apart on the old wood and squared his weight into his shoulders.

“You can’t stay here anymore,” he stated with such finality that Isaac had to take a step back before he could walk forward.  He scrambled really, grabbing his bag and hauling it over to the legs of the desk as some form of ‘but this is my home too’.  

The lanky teenager leaned into the wooden pillar near him, looking up with a disbelieving smirk, “I- I don’t get it.”  He laughed even, maybe to express the extent of his scepticism even if there was nothing funny about the situation.  “Look,” he waited a beat, “did something happen?”

Derek was facing away from him now, where rain pounded against the large glass windows, “it’s just not going to work with both of you here,” his voice was scarily calm but a higher pitch than Isaac was used to, “I’ve got Cora now, it’s too much.  I need you out tonight.”

Isaac scoffed, “where am I supposed to go?”  An almost-smile was plastered to his face but it was easy to see the concern beneath it while Isaac calculated how this would be the first official prank Derek would ever play, that it had to be a prank because _this could not be happening to him again_.  He leaned further into the wood, gesturing around while watching with a facade of nonchalance.

Derek raised his head, his high pitch rising even further while remaining steady, “somewhere else.”

Lighting cracked against the clouds like ribs breaking while thunder rumbled across the horizon.  Isaac tried to remain calm, tried to smirk, but it came out as a grimace at best.  He shook his head for a second before stopping himself, keeping his own voice as calm as possible, “did I do something wrong, Derek?”

If it were his father, he would be screaming at Isaac for talking to him like that, so casually as though they were equals, as though he didn’t owe him his sweat and tears and blood-- so much blood.  But Derek _wasn’t his father_ and Isaac didn’t need to duck his head and whisper every word like an injured puppy.

Derek whipped around, his voice inching it’s way up, raising just slightly as he gestured towards the door, “you’re doing something wrong right now by not leaving.”

Isaac’s features hardened as things started to dawn as reality, swiveling towards the pillar before looking into Derek’s pale but shadowed eyes once again, “come on.”

“Just get out.”

There was nothing joking about Derek’s growl but Isaac tried to see it that way, his grimace appearing once again as he took a friendly step forward, “Derek please--”

“Get out!” Derek yelled, gesturing and stepping forward too with more aggression than friendliness.

Isaac only took another step, raising his arms from his sides innocently, his quiet laugh barely hiding the sudden hysteria, “come on.”

Not waiting a beat, Derek hurled his glass straight at Isaac’s head, screaming, “GO!”  Isaac ducked instinctively, holding his head between his arms and turning to lessen the blow.  Still the glass shattered against his back and onto the creaking floor.

And it occurred to Isaac how stupid he had been, because this was exactly like his dad-- because that was exactly what his dad would’ve- _did_ do-- and how stupid could he have been to assume that Derek would be any different?  How stupid could he have been to think he was worth a pack-- a _family_?!  He didn’t deserve the air he breathed, and Derek had finally figured that out.

Still, as he looked up, took a shaky breath, and peered over his shoulder for one last glance at Derek-- he cowered.   And yes, he felt as betrayed as guilty, as angry as scared, but overwhelmingly just lonely because he knew that this had been too good to be true.  He stood up slowly, missing the way Derek’s eyes flickered to the ground in shame and regret, missing the way Derek swallowed, only to think that every bit of care he had felt for the man standing before him was utterly one-sided.  Isaac turned around again, still hunching, grabbing his bag with all the aggression he could muster, looked back one more time and failing to hold in a quiet gasp of tears.  He walked away slowly, as though it hurt to walk-- because it _did_ hurt to walk and left the loft with a whimper to his step. 

 


End file.
